


Your Protector

by anitapen



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:24:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anitapen/pseuds/anitapen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Keep your secrets safe with you, girl.  Safe from the outside..." Abigail Hobbs gets another chance at life. Hannibal Lecter gets another chance to save a life. (Inspired by the song "Your Protector" by Fleet Foxes.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Run With the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> My sister turned me into a big Hannibal fan, so this is my first story with this particular ship. I was inspired by a song (it shares the same title of this story) from her favorite band, Fleet Foxes. I hope you enjoy it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail Hobbs gets a second chance at life.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you in this life.” 

Those were the words that kept running through her head as she felt the sharp steel of the blade being pressed into her neck. She had heard that it was easier to slit a throat if the victim’s back faced the perpetrator, but she figured that she would keep the eye contact for as long as she could. If anything, he owed her that. 

As she felt the blade being pressed into the wound her father gave her, she could feel his thumb gently wiping away the tears that fell down her face. A part of her just wanted him to get it over with, his kind gesture prolonging the torture, but given the history of the man holding her, she knew that no bartering would be on the table. She had become the collateral damage, and she wasn’t one to beg for a life that she felt was cursed.

Swiftly turning her around, she screamed from the shock of it and knew that all of this was soon going to end. She felt his heart beating against her and wondered if this was how it always was for him when it came time to steal a life. He wasn’t nervous; he didn’t even appear to break a sweat. That was how calculated he was in his art, and as quickly as the knife was placed on her throat it was removed and placed behind her ear. 

“This is the only way.” Her trusted friend whispered as he swiftly pushed the knife through her flesh.

Abigail didn’t remember the pain or her screams. She didn’t even remember passing out in his arms, or the firm embrace that kept her from falling to the floor.

Hours later she woke up in what appeared to be a hotel room. With the ear that remained she heard the traffic passing, knowing that she was probably in some cheap motel along the highway. Not knowing what to do, still in shock from what happened just hours earlier, she began to shake. 

It could have been her going into shock; it could have been pure fear. She wanted to feel what had become of her missing ear, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her wound was wrapped in gauze and she could tell that the man who removed it took the upmost care in making sure that everything would be fine.

She felt his presence in the room, and just as she tried to calm herself down, her panic only grew at not knowing where she was and what was truly happening.

"Shhh." She heard him say as he sat beside her. 

Grabbing her hand, almost expecting her to pull it away, Abigail gripped the hand that had done such damage to her... but that hand could have just as soon killed her too.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter could tell that she wanted to say something, but as if reading her mind, 

"It's okay. No one knows where we are, and you're safe." 

She noticed a syringe being moved towards her and immediately began to panic. 

"I'm giving you something to calm you down. All will be explained soon."

Not knowing if she should believe him, she knew that she didn't have a choice. Feeling herself drift away into the oblivion of sleep, she did remember her last words to him this time around.

"Thank you." Abigail said. 

He continued to hold her hand just as he did after the incident with her father.


	2. She Left a Week to Roam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new identity and questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read this little story of mine. I wish I could update every day, but I'm getting extra hours at work. I don't even know how I want this story to end, but I'm having fun writing it. (Sorry for the short chapter.)

"You're new name will be Sophia Larsen. I have acquired a passport for you, and we are to leave on the first flight to Florence tomorrow evening." 

The hotel had been her home for the last three days. There wasn't much to do during the day. She watched a lot of bad television, tried not to wonder what she would look like sans ear, and was curious as to how she would really be able to escape the mess that she was in. In her boredom she found a Bible in the dresser drawer and was skimming through it when she heard the door being opened and in came Hannibal Lecter with a suitcase and a few bags. All of a sudden it became so real when he gave her a new identity.

"Why are you doing this?" Abigail asked. "You could have just killed me. You didn't have to go through all of this trouble."

"I see something in you... Sophia." Hannibal said with a look on his face that was close to a smirk. "Abigail Hobbs is dead, but Sophia Larsen is going to Florence to study Italian cooking."

"I'm not very good at that kind of thing."

"It is nothing unusual for foreigners to study abroad, especially in the culinary arts. Maybe the sun and a change of scenery will be good for you." He said as he handed her one of the bag's that contained a few change of clothes for her.

"What about you?"

"I'm going to continue on in Baltimore." Sensing her panic at the thought of being on her own in a city she knew nothing of, he continued,

"I've taken a few days leave from my practice. I think that with the shock of Will Graham's arrest no one would think it odd. You will have enough time to grow acquainted with the city and I will return to you whenever I can."

It was then that he began to pull containers out of a white bag: food. Setting up a place for them to eat, Abigail was curious about what was on the menu. Hannibal was signaling for her to come and eat what smelled like a chowder. She was hungry, and even though she knew what most probably made up the protein, her stomach was aching for something that was home cooked. The man did know how to prepare a meal.

"So you're going to just drop me off and we both go about our merry ways?" She said as she sat down at the table.

Hannibal Lecter sat across from her. Every movement, every word was planned out. It was a quality she yearned to possess.

"Everyone, including Will Graham, believes you to be dead. I've been very meticulous in arranging all of this for you, so we can't do anything that will arouse any sort of suspicion. I'm giving you another life."

"And I appreciate that - I truly do. I... I just have never really been on my own."

"I saw a Bible on your bed. I never pegged you a woman of faith?" Hannibal asked as he dug his spoon into the dish.

"There was nothing else to read, so..." Abigail replied, somewhat shocked that he referred to her as a woman.

"But what are your thoughts?"

"My family wasn't very religious. I can see both sides, but it was nothing I ever really gave much thought to."

"Every one of us has that survival instinct. We do what we must in order to continue on. I ask that you not think of Will Graham or all that you are leaving behind. In the end we are all animals; sometimes it's easier to remember that. Eat Sophia," he said to stress the point of her new name. 

"Besides, you're not going to be on your own. You'll have me."


	3. Keep Your Secrets Safe With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flights of fancy and being introduced to a new world.

On the plane ride he spoke of the city like it was a lover, something he would caress if given the chance to. Using the flight to talk to her about the new life that awaited her, there were times he could tell she was exhausted from the last few days - the weight of it finally hitting her.

Hannibal brought food for the plane ride, and after a light meal he would bear the weight of her head on his shoulder. He knew that she didn't want to rest the side of her head that lacked an ear, the wound was still rather fresh, so it was a weight he had no choice but to welcome. 

He remembered the previous night when she asked to see the wound that was giving her a new life. Watching her undo the wrapping, (it did need to be changed) he knew the wound was healing nicely and mentioned it to her. As soon as she felt the air on what used to be her ear, she looked in the mirror. Shuddering as she turned her head, she didn't want to cry but felt the tears begin to form in her eyes. It was healing nicely, whatever that really meant, but she knew in that moment that it would take her a long time to get used to. She had heard about phantom limbs, but she didn't know if an ear would technically count. 

She didn't have to look at Hannibal Lecter to know that he was gauging her reaction. He didn't appear to gain any pleasure from it, but all she could do was stare at what used to be her ear. She wasn't shaken out of her staring spell until she felt his hands on her shoulders. They were anchors that guided her back to reality. His fingers gently grazed over them before he walked away from her. 

Wanting to touch the wound, she knew it would be foolish given that it was just cleaned. Looking in the mirror, she noticed Lecter approaching with one of her scarves. 

"After a few months, maybe we can look into a replacement. Artificial ears have been used for children in England. I'm sure that can be an option for you down the line." He said as she gently covered the wound and wrapped her scarf around her head in a way that covered up the gauze. It was fatherly, but at the same time it wasn't. 

The flight attendant warning passengers about securing their seat belts shook Hannibal out of his flashback. The plane would soon land in Italy and there was still so much to do. He didn't know if he should wake her up, but as he sniffed the light smell of her shampoo that he had grown so acquainted with, he decided to let her get as much sleep as she could. The different time zone would affect her in a matter of days, so it was best to just let her be.

 

Escorting her to her new home in the Palazzo Borghese, she could only hear snippets of what her companion was telling her about the city he so adored. It was a new world - a place she had only heard about from others and saw pictures of in books. The sounds, smells, and colors were almost too much for her to take.

Climbing up the three flights of stairs to the flat, she wondered if she was truly ready for this new life that was being given to her. She wondered if maybe she could find a way back to the States. Maybe she could reveal herself and Lecter could be brought to justice, but a thought lingered in her mind: I still have so much to learn from him. Just as she had been collateral damage at one point, Will Graham would have to remain that way too. 

Hearing the key unlock the door to the flat, Abigail was shaken back to reality. She followed the doctor into the main entrance. It wasn't anything too elaborate, but knowing what she knew of her protector, it was just as she expected it to be. 

Noticing him place his bag on the floor next to a leather chair, Abigail followed suit. She didn't notice what captured his attention until she saw him open the doors that led out to a balcony. Mesmerized, she followed him.

"You see that structure over there?" He said as he pointed to the dome like structure. "That's the Duomo. Leonardo da Vinci aided in the design of it."

"It's magnificent." Abigail said. "I've never seen anything like it. This city is amazing. How long until you have to return to Baltimore?"

"Enough time to where you will feel comfortable enough to navigate it on your own. Of course you will have to learn the native tongue."

"I can do that." Abigail said with determination as she continued to view the city from the balcony of the flat. Hearing the sounds of the city and seeing her new home left her with a feeling of how she didn't want to disappoint the person standing next to her. She would rather die than let him down.


	4. Your Protector's Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I didn't want to take a chance with Google Translate for the Italian stuff, so I hope that can be overlooked in terms of this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

3 months later

Hannibal entered the flat, but found that no one was home. He knew that Sophia wouldn't run away, and his worries were canceled as soon as he saw the postcards they exchanged pinned around the entry table. Their exchanges weren't detailed; they were blunt and contained "hellos," "all is well," and Sophia was cheeky enough to sometimes include clipped references to Vincent Van Gogh. Hannibal took comfort in her sense of humor when he was alone in Baltimore. For all purposes, she seemed to be getting on well with his beloved city.

The flat that he would freely admit emitted a cold feeling was now warm with the presence of another. It felt lived in, and Hannibal didn't think he would enjoy the feeling as much as he did. Walking towards the bedroom, his intention was to place his luggage in the room and the two would figure out a sleeping arrangement when the time came. After all, Sophia had no idea that he was there for a visit. 

Still wondering where she was, Hannibal couldn't be frustrated because his trip was made on the whim. Placing his luggage in the bedroom, he couldn't help but notice the slight feminine touches she added to the place. It wasn't anything too overt, but a scarf was draped over a lampshade and there were a few candles in the bedroom. A shirt she probably slept in was folded up neatly and placed at the edge of the bed. Without realizing what he was doing, he brought the fabric to his nose and inhaled the scent: clean skin and jasmine. (She still smelled the same.) On the night stand next to the bed was an English/Italian dictionary. Underneath it was a book about Van Gogh translated in Italian. She had postcards of the works of the great Renaissance painters stacked neatly next to the books. 

Filing through the closet, he noticed a nice collection of dresses and tops. The cold weather of Minnesota never allowed for such indulgences, but as he ran his fingers over the fabric, he could sense the joy she had when picking them out. The clothes weren't things one would wear to at a symphony performance, but he didn't expect her to be too familiar with those sorts of things. When he left her months ago, he also left a tidy sum of money. He expected that he would have to send a monthly allowance, but a postcard never came requesting funds. 

Wanting to walk around the city a bit, and hoping to find Sophia, he walked towards the entrance when he noticed a painting that she was working on set up next to a window in the sitting area. He observed the painting, an interpretation of the Ponte Vecchio at night. Her work was formidable, but it needed a little fine tuning, but it was nothing that couldn't be fixed with time. Just like his dear Sophia...

Instinct told him that she would probably go to the places that were populated. Walking towards the city centre, he felt like he hadn't been to the city as many times as he had. It was a city meant to be admired and there were moments he had to remind himself who he was searching for. Approaching the Piazza della Repubblica, Hannibal was eager to discover what had become of Sophia. Slowing down his pace as the crowds became a little more dense, he saw an outdoor cafe and figured he'd take his chances. 

It took another two blocks until he found her. 

Her hair was a few inches shorter than what it was the last time he saw her, just past her shoulders. He never recalled it shining in the Minnesota sky, but under an Italian one it radiated. She was sitting outside, reading a book and enjoying an espresso. A scarf was used to both cover her missing ear and held her hair back. Hannibal noticed that she didn't have one around her neck. Approaching his pupil, he noticed that her posture was different. Gone was the timid Abigail Hobbs from Minnesota. Here was Sophia Larsen, a young woman immersed in her new life. 

He didn't know how long he waited until she felt the presence of someone behind her. It was that knowing pose of a familiar body in the crowd. He could almost hear the hitch in her breath. 

"You're back." She whispered.

"For a short while."

It was vague, but it was honest.

It was then that Sophia dropped the book she was reading, a biography on Michelangelo, and stood to greet her protector, a man she hadn't seen in what felt like three years. Inhaling her scent, Hannibal couldn't help but stroke her hair and burrow his smile in it. She didn't fall apart as he feared - she blossomed.

"Sophia." Hannibal whispered into her hair as he held her. It almost felt as if the two were making up for lost time. 

"My instructors are surprised at how quickly I've taken up certain skills. Apparently I can julienne with the best of them, but the food here is different." Sophia said as the two sat across from each other.

"You're not fond of it?" Hannibal asked as he took a sip of his espresso, but he knew exactly what she was talking about. He knew it all too well.

"It's not the same." Deciding to quickly change the subject.

"My Italian is getting better. I completed a beginners course and am working on the second one. I'm lucky that many of my instructors understand English, but it can get tricky sometimes. I took French when I was in school. I just get them mixed up sometimes."

"With your age it becomes more difficult to learn a new language. It's the same with a musical instrument."

For a while the two conversed in Italian, but when the vocabulary became too tricky, Hannibal decided to go back to English.

"How long are you really here for?" Her blue eyes glassing over, almost on the brink of tears.

"Let's not talk about that now. I have taken the liberty to purchase us tickets to see a performance of Mozart's  
'Requiem'. I hope you do not have plans for tomorrow night. We can look at it is a treat for your adapting to this new life."

"That sounds lovely, but I'm not fancy enough to attend that sort of thing. What I have on is just about as fancy as my wardrobe gets."

"Yes, because purchasing a dress before tomorrow evening is an impossible task." Hannibal said.

She laughed at the foolishness of her comment, but also because she didn't think he had it in him to be sarcastic. 

"Just leave it to me."

"I was going to head to the Accademia to visit some friends of mine." Sophia said as she looked down. 

"You've become friendly with some of your classmates?" Hannibal asked, with a tone that she questioned. 

"Yeah, David has become one of my besties." She added. 

Realizing that her friends were the permanent residents of the museum, he didn't try to conceal the smirk on his face. 

"Mind if I join you?" Hannibal asked.

"Nothing would make me happier." 

He had learned while walking her to the museum that it was almost customary of her to visit the second Wednesday of every month. He didn't question it or find it odd. He was curious, and as the two looked at some of Michelangelo's unfinished works, he took the opportunity to ask.

"What about this place has enchanted you so?" 

"I can't say really. It's the first real museum I ever visited, so there's some significance there. I just look at all of this work and wonder if I would ever have the patience to complete something so grand. Looking at these unfinished works - it's almost as if they are fighting to break free from the stone."

"Like you broke free from your past."

"Yeah, I suppose." She said as she moved on towards the centerpiece of the museum. 

They silently admired Michelangelo's masterpiece together, every now and then noting intricacies that they hoped the other didn't pick up on. As futile as it was, it was an enjoyable experience for both. 

Two hours later the companions were walking back towards the flat. Sophia noticed the man offering horse drawn carriage rides tightening the reins for the horse too tightly. Cursing at the horse in Italian, both Sophia and Hannibal could see that the horse was uncomfortable. Waiting for the man to strike the horse, Hannibal saw her features tense.

"Come now." Hannibal said, grabbing her arm as he led her back home.

It took her a few moments to say something.

"Can we invite him over for dinner one night?" She asked with such stoicism that it almost made him pause in his tracks.

Looking back at the man, still cursing the horse, Hannibal couldn't hide the smirk of pride from his face as the two of them continued to walk.

"I suppose we'll have to do that soon." 

"Good. I'd like to show you some of my new culinary skills."


	5. Caught in a Waking Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night at the opera and catharsis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was heavily inspired by Mozart's "Requiem in D minor." I cried the first time I ever heard it, so I thought it fitting to give it some love in this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.

As a car drove them to the Teatro della Pergola, Sophia felt a bit foolish in her dress. She wore dresses, enjoyed them even, but she had ever owned something this fancy. As she fingered the peacock blue viscose, she was worried that she would stick out in a crowd of opera fanatics. Not wanting to share her insecurities, she tried to relax as the driver took the two of them to their destination.

Earlier that day the two made their way to some of the more expensive establishments in the city. Not really knowing what to choose, she relied on Hannibal (by this point he insisted on her using his first name) to suggest dresses and offered up his guidance. 

Hearing him speak Italian to the people in the shops made her slightly envious - she hoped to one day be on that level. He suggested colors, and while Sophia had final say in what she would wear that evening, she did want his approval. After trying out several dresses of varying lengths, she finally decided on a structured asymmetrical mid-length dress that left her shoulders bare. It was modern, classy, and not something that overwhelmed her with the exception of her current fears. Looking at herself in the mirror with a dress that probably cost more than what her father made in a month, she tried to forget the memories of what ultimately put her in the current position she was in. 

Her father sliding the knife across her skin.

The blood on the floor.

The face of a doctor looking down on her as the pawn also tried to quell the loss of her life force. 

"Sophia." She heard the name again.

"I'm sorry." She said, not noticing that Hannibal's hands were on her shoulders.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I... I just have never worn anything so lovely."

He knew she wasn't entirely being truthful, but he knew well enough to let it be for now. 

"I think you look exquisite." He whispered in her ear, his hands still on her shoulders. 

Knowing that would make her smile, he noticed the way she tried to conceal her blush by looking down at her feet. She understood the Italian when she heard him tell the salesperson that they would take the dress. 

And now here she was in a car. 

"You've been rather quiet today." Hannibal said.

"Would you think less of me if I admitted that I'm a little too intimidated with this whole opera thing. I can handle museums, cafes, and cooking classes, but this..." she said while grabbing the fabric of her dress.

"This makes me feel like I don't belong."

"You're thinking too much about all of this. Let's just enjoy this night."

"I don't know anything about opera. All I know of Mozart is from that Amadeus movie, and I only know about that because a music teacher showed it to our class once. It's just that I feel like I'm some sort of an impostor, pretending to be this cultured, culinary student when really I've been fortunate enough to be lucky. "

Noticing the car slow down a bit, Hannibal grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. 

"We are both very lucky. And Sophia, never doubt that you are worthy enough of life. I know you sometimes struggle with the guilt, and I know that sweeping you away to Italy will never erase those memories. Still, never think that your life is any less worthy than those of the people around us." He said as the car came to a stop. 

Taking their seats in the balcony, Sophia couldn't help the pace of her heartbeat. It just kept getting quicker and quicker as the show got closer to starting. She could feel the sheen of a light sweat break out along her collarbone, but came back to herself when she felt her companion tuck a strand of hair that fallen loose from her bun behind the ear that remained. The hairdo was designed to cover up her missing ear, and she was glad to have an occasion where a scarf wasn't needed. 

Rather than thank him with words, she looked at Hannibal and smiled just as the lights in the building were being dimmed. 

As the orchestra began the music, the lights continued to dim down. When the singing began, she felt a tingle up her spine. She felt a strange feeling - somehow this night was going to change things. Hearing the music and seeing the performance kept her in awe for the entire performance. Never once did she turn her attention away from what she saw on stage. Sophia had never heard or seen anything like it. Sure, she listened to some of the classical discs that Hannibal kept in his flat, but nothing was like what she was watching. When the requiem would pause, she noticed everyone else around her applauding, including Hannibal, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The beauty of it paralyzed her.

There were moments she closed her eyes and felt as if the music was flowing through her. As much as she tried to avoid them, the images of her previous life came back to her. Rather than feel the melancholy and foreboding, she began to see the strange beauty in the images. The blood. The death. The chance at redemption, even if it was at the cost of others. Soon the tears began to fall.

She didn't care if others saw them. They were a watershed of the past few months. For the first time in month she felt like everything was truly going to be fine. Without even realizing it, she grabbed Hannibal's hand. He would be the anchor, the sturdy rock, and the light that would guide her back home. 

Sophia didn't notice her companion looking at her. She didn't know that he thought about wiping away her tears. He knew that they needed to be shed, her scar making her even more beautiful. 

"It's said that Mozart feared that this requiem was really being written about himself." Hannibal said as the two waited for the car that would drive them the short distance back to the flat. She hadn't said a word since the performance ended, it's effect still coursing through her.

"Would it be okay if we walked back to the flat?" Sophia asked. 

Looking up at the sky, Hannibal didn't believe it would be an issue. 

"You are wearing heels. Are you sure you want to walk back?"

"I think it would be good." Her eyes were red and swollen, but Hannibal didn't mention anything about it. 

He not once acknowledged her catharsis up to that point.

After telling the driver that his services would not be needed, Hannibal and Abigail began to walk back towards the flat. He wanted to hear her opinion of Mozart's masterpiece, but the dried tear marks on her face gave her opinion away. The two were walking back in silence, the sounds of the city all around them. It reminded her of her first day in the city. 

Feeling the strain on her feet, Sophia started walking a little slower. The wind gently shifting her dress. She didn't have to ask for Hannibal to slow down. He knew how to match her pace. Another block passed when she finally stopped. Keeping her head down, she didn't want him to see her tears.

"Is it your feet?" Hannibal asked.

"No." Sophia said, almost laughing at what he assumed was the problem. 

Wiping her eyes with a handkerchief he provided her, she mumbled a thank you, still refusing to look him in the eye.

"Are you sure you're fine. I'm not one to carry a lovely woman around in my arms."

"No." She repeated, still finding humor with the idea of him not understanding what she felt.

"Then what is it?" He asked, moving in closer to her.

"It's just... it was so beautiful." She said before breaking into the saddest laugh that Hannibal Lecter had the pleasure of hearing.

"Come. Let's go home." Hannibal said as the two began walking.

She processed his words, focusing too much time on his use of the word "home" in the sentence. She didn't know if it was the music, the tears, or just the city that propelled her to reach for his hand for a second time that night and hold it as they continued to walk back to the flat. He didn't have to say anything, and she didn't feel words were necessary either. It was the fact that he didn't remove his hand from hers that had her brain going into overdrive.


	6. Tell Your Mother Not to Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kiss and a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovely readers for taking the time to read this story. Things are going to get a little steamy in this chapter, and I thank you for your patience. I always favored relationships that are somewhat drawn out.

He had been in Florence for only three days, but it strangely felt as if Hannibal Lecter had never left Sophia Larsen. Sophia had fears about how the living arrangements would play out, and as Hannibal insisted that the bed was big enough for the two of them she immediately felt childish. They were both mature enough to handle something as simple as sharing space on a bed. It was easy to living on her own, but with another person in the equation things were more elaborate. 

The first night was too awkward for Sophia to a point that she couldn't sleep and eventually made her way to the sofa in the living room. The next night was the same, and she was thankful that Hannibal never mentioned anything about it. She knew that he picked up on the fact that she wasn't necessarily sharing a bed with him, but even after two days the sofa wasn't cutting it in terms of her getting a good night's rest. 

Sophia discovered that she couldn't concentrate too well in class because of her lack of sleep. In the beginning she felt like she was just wasting both her time and that of her instructors, but after that night at the opera she gave in to the idea that she too could handle this situation with some form of grace. 

There were times when she had to remind herself that she now had a roommate. Things she could get away with alone couldn't be done now. It wasn't anything unusual for Abigail to change into more comfortable clothes when she returned home from her classes without even thinking of closing the bedroom door, but now she had to be more cautious of her actions. Especially after Hannibal walked in on her changing. Caught in her bra and underwear, she didn't expect to be as embarrassed as she was, but, once again, he acted as if it were nothing unusual. 

She didn't know if she should be relieved or hurt. She wanted to impress him. She even wanted him to desire her, but nothing in his behavior gave her any indication of attraction. He never talked to her about that night at the opera, her reaching for his hand. At first she was glad that it never came up, but now it was all she could think about. Maybe she was just an experiment to him. Shelving it and moving on, she figured that it was best to keep their friendship as professional and platonic as possible.

That night as she lay in the bed with him, a cold space between them, she stared up at the ceiling as she heard the intake of his breath. She closed her eyes and wished for sleep to come and take her. Hannibal never had trouble falling asleep. She looked at him with admiration. His clothing was always impeccable, and his pajamas appeared that way too. Some nights she wondered if he slept without a shirt on - maybe he did when alone - but that didn't bring her any closer to sleep. 

Looking at the clock that read 1:10 in the morning, she sighed out of frustration, slightly slamming her head into the pillow. 

"Trouble sleeping again?" Hannibal asked. 

"Unfortunately. I'm sorry if I'm keeping you awake." Sophia said.

"You are used to sleeping alone?"

"For the most part. I don't feel like I'm walking on eggshells, but it's a bit weird having you here. I got used to being alone."

"Would you like me to stay elsewhere?" He asked.

"NO!" Sophia was quick to reply. "I just mean that... I don't really even know anymore. It's nice having company, and it's nice to come home and know that someone is waiting for you. I'm just happy that you're here."

"Come here." 

Sophia scooted over to the warm body. Not knowing what to do, she waited for him to do something. He gently guided her to him. Wrapping his arm around her, he guided her head to his chest. Feeling the rise and fall of his chest made it easier for her to fall asleep. She tried to not think too much about his fingers running through her hair; his gentle touch comforting her more than she knew it should.

\----

"I don't think I'll ever be as snazzy in the kitchen as you are." Sophia said as she helped Hannibal to prepare the "chicken" parmesan. 

She knew that most probably the chicken was the man she targeted a few days ago. While her curiosity made her want to be there when Hannibal killed their target, she knew that she wasn't quite ready to participate. He understood and mentioned something about taking things one day at at time, but eventually she would get there.

"You are holding your own." He said, pouring them each a glass of wine. (Abigail was of age to drink in Italy, after all.)

Hannibal had now been in Florence for close to two weeks. Sophia had gone about her usual schedule: classes during the day and the afternoons and evenings were spent either walking around the beautiful city or staying in. She was content to spend evenings sharing the living room with him reading. She either would do the same thing or prep for her next day. 

She would be the first to admit that cooking wasn't her true passion, but the more she learned the more she grew to love it. One of the best in her class, she would never admit to others that she had extra lessons in the evenings. She liked having others think she was born to rule the kitchen. 

Sophia no longer had issues with sleeping, but it didn't hurt that Hannibal allowed her to use his chest as a pillow when needed. It never got any more physical beyond that, at least in the bed, but she did begin to notice the way he would place his hand on the small of her back sometimes. 

There were times he would also gently grab her shoulders. At first she thought it was Hannibal just being Hannibal, but having him there made her wonder if there was something more to it all. It was only natural for her to wonder, but she knew that with Dr. Lecter things were never done by accident.

"I always have to make sure that I'm in front of the other students because of my ear."

"Have others asked you about it?" He asked, now prepping a small flour mixture for a potato dish.

"They're curious, but they don't make a big deal out of it. I just say that it had to be removed because of a really bad infection. Usually the conversation ends there."

"I notice that you don't try to conceal the scar on your neck."

"What's the point. I don't lie about it, well, parts Abigail's chapter. Want to kill a conversation real quick? Just say, 'I got this from my dad when he held a knife to my throat and only got half of the job done.' I just leave out the serial killer part and say that he was a drunk who beat up on my mom. His life insurance policy is what helped to pay for the tuition. And that explains why I hauled it to Italy."

Hannibal was impressed with the story she created to explain the scar. Her finesse at delivering it made him less apprehensive about the idea of her one day letting something slip by accident. She had a good grip on what to do and say, and he couldn't help but smile a little bit at the thought of it.

"You seem to have handled it well."

"It could be worse. Things could always be worse." Sophia said, immediately wanting to change the subject.

"Today I had a class that focused on pastries." She said as she continued chopping onions, a little distraught. "I was hoping that cannolis would not be on the agenda, but" and suddenly she paused.

Looking over at Abigail, he noticed her finger was bleeding. She cursed under her breath as she looked around for something to stop the bleeding. The cut wasn't too deep, but it was enough to be a nuisance. As Hannibal reached for a towel, Abigail placed her thumb in her mouth, hoping that it would somehow quell the blood. The metallic headiness of it caught her attention, but she was more concerned about getting the bleeding to stop. 

As he approached her with a towel, Abigail tried to grab it from him, but she knew that he wanted to see the cut. Her thumb still in her mouth, Hannibal gently grabbed her wrist to look at the cut. Blood began to seep through the cut.

"I feel so stupid." Abigail said.

"You think you're the only person to wound themselves on the blade of a kitchen knife?"

"No. It's just that I didn't want to ruin our dinner."

Expecting him to wrap her thumb in the towel, she was surprised when he took her thumb and placed it in his mouth. He wanted to taste her blood, and seeing him savor it shook her to the core. Not believing what she saw in front of her, she was reminded of every caress, hug, and word of assurance that he gave her. Feeling the flood of all and letting it overwhelm her, as soon as he removed her thumb from his mouth she kissed him. 

It wasn't anything too sudden - it just happened. Maybe it was the wine, but she pulled away from him too quickly. 

"I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." She said, knowing that she tasted a bit of her blood on his tongue. 

He pulled her into a gentle hug, almost to console her. It was only now that she noticed her thumb was wrapped in the towel.

"It's natural for some form of transference to happen. You have nothing to apologize for."

As usual, he was calm, cool, and collected. Too collected.

"I didn't want to do that until that day you left me. I knew I was growing attached, but I somehow connected the dots. I'm relying on you for so many things, so it's natural for one to possess such feelings. I know that, but then I began to think about all of our conversations before Abigail Hobbs was killed. I didn't understand it then the way that I do now. You're the only branch I have to my past. I cling to it and I can't help it."

"This is only a passing phase. You're right, I'm the only thing that remains of your former life." Hannibal said as he slid his fingers through her hair.

Not knowing what else to do, but wanting to savor his lips again, she sought out his kiss again. Hoping to pour her hope into his lips, she waited for him to kiss her back and just as it seemed like her goal was fruitless, she felt him give in to her. What began as soft and sweet soon moved towards animalistic and domineering. It was as if he wanted to possess her, but she then realized that he already did. 

But just as soon as he understood the full implications of what was happening, he gently pulled away. He gave her a look any adult would when confronted by someone deemed not worthy of one's affections. At least, that was how she saw it.

"Please don't." Sophia said, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to fall.

"Don't what?"

"Please don't tell me that I deserve better, or that I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not a child. She died the day I became the lure for Garrett Jacob Hobbs."

Hannibal remained silent, and his silence only fed into her belief that he still saw her as a child.

"Let's finish preparing this meal." He said as he checked her finger which had now stopped bleeding. 

Wrapping the cut up in the bathroom, Sophia walked back into the kitchen and it was as if her confession had never happened. Wanting to dwell on it, but knowing that it would not be best to do so, the two continued in silence and when the meal was ready to be consumed they also ate in silence. 

Hannibal offered to clean and Sophia was too exhausted to worry about it. Getting ready for bed, she looked at herself in the mirror, scrutinizing the scars on her body and wondering if anyone would deem her worthy enough for love. She was pretty, maybe even beautiful, in that former life, but now her scars came with questions.

Hearing the sounds in the other room, Sophia didn't know what would happen next. Would this be something to be forgotten and never spoken of again? For all she knew, he could leave tomorrow if he so chose to. That uncertainty allowed her to be bold, but it also allowed her to be foolish in those past chapters. She just didn't know what direction to go in.

Twenty minutes later, and not hearing anything from the bathroom or bedroom, Hannibal assumed that Sophia had gone to bed. He felt her frustrations, but knew it best to leave things alone at this point. Walking in the bedroom to get a change of clothing, he paused at the sight he saw before him. 

Sophia lay there, face down, with not a stitch of clothing on her. She was awake, shivering from both nerves and the slight breeze from the fan in the room, and she knew exactly what she was doing. Never looking at him, she knew that his eyes were on her, surveying her form. She wasn't trying to be seductive; she knew that such things would never work on him. Hannibal knew exactly what he saw: she was a willing sacrifice, offering herself to his altar. 

"Abigail." He whispered. 

It was the first and the only time he resorted back to that name.


	7. As You Lay Beside Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possessed and consumed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I'll leave it at that.

As his eyes raked over her naked form, Hannibal could sense her apprehension. She didn't really know what she was doing, and it felt as if she only realized it when he stepped into the room. He could feel the uneasiness of her breath, see her body trembling on their bed, and felt a sense of pride in her awkwardness.

She never said anything, but she could feel him walking toward the bed. She didn't once look at him. Her eyes focused on the window across the room, the moonlight embracing Florence with its beauty. The longer the silence, the more she began to regret the entire evening: the kiss and this exact move that made her feel more and more humiliated with each passing second. 

Trying to keep her tears from falling, she felt Hannibal sit on the edge of the bed, next to her feet. If he would speak, then maybe this humiliation would soon die, but that didn't appear to be the case. Too petrified to move and cover herself, she remained there, stiff as a corpse.

She was about to apologize for being so presumptuous and beg to pretend that the entire evening never happened, but then she felt the pads of his fingertips slowly running up her leg. It was in that moment she released the breath she didn't realize she was holding in, and she knew he heard it. Her goosebumps only grew, and her eyes closed as she savored his touch. 

Hannibal could see the rise and fall of her body, the skin that could use a little more sun was as soft as he always knew it would be. Moving his fingers over her bum and onto her back, he was reminded of the beautiful creature that was offering herself to him. 

"I am incredibly honored." Hannibal said as his fingers lingered on her gloriously naked back.

"But?" She whispered.

"Sophia... Abigail... I don't think it would be wise given that I will be leaving in a few days."

Burying her head a little in the pillow, she spoke into it, but he could understand every word she said,

"Then why come here? Why come here to torture me and remind me of..."

"Of your father? Your past?"

"No." It was now that Sophia turned her head to the right and noticed Hannibal's face right next to hers, his skin still lingering on hers,

"Of what I will never be able to have."

Sighing, Hannibal moved his hand to her face, his thumb gently massaging the side of her face available to him.

"Any man would be greatly honored."

"I don't want any man. I want you." She whispered, letting the tears fall onto his fingers. 

A part of her wanted to turn around and let him see how her body ached for his touch, but she knew that it was a cheap ploy and he would see right through it.

"I am not worthy of such a gift."

"Of what? My body? My soul? You have those things already, you must know that. The only thing left to claim is my virginity, or did you think gave that away to some cute Italian boy given the first chance?"

"I wasn't aware..."

"I'm not pure." Sophia whispered, still basking in the feel of his hand on her cheek.

"That was stolen from me a long time ago by a man who died trying to kill me. I can't think of anyone more worthy." 

Seeing the unreadable expression on his face, Sophia didn't know what else to do. She was never going to be the kind of woman he was attracted to, and he could see the hope dying on her features.

"Don't ever doubt my attachment to you."

"You think I'd become one of those hopeless romantic types who would wait and pine like her mate was going off to war. Please give me a little more credit than that."

"I know you would never do that, Sophia."

"Please! Can you not say that name here?" She begged.

"Abigail, I know that you have a good grip on things, but I think if you wouldn't be in this situation you would not be doing this right now."

"I would be dead. You were going to kill me, but in that last minute you decided not to. Why, and please don't tell me it was because of my great potential or whatever. Why did you really spare me?"

"Because of the way you look at me now." Hannibal said a little too quickly. "You think I refuse you because I am not attracted to you, but I am. I see myself in you sometimes. It is not a weakness on my part, but a longing..." he continued as his hand made its way to her neck.

Feeling the scar on her neck, he brought his lips to it to remind himself that it was still there. Letting him do what he wanted without protest, his lips made their way up her neck and as he pressed his forehead into hers, she knew that this was probably going to be the most that he would willing to give of himself to her. 

Before she new it, his lips were on hers. She could feel his tongue battling for dominance with hers, and before she knew it, Abigail had turned over so she could face him fully. She wasn't embarrassed about completely exposed to him. His hands never left her face as the two continued to kiss. She didn't dare touch him anywhere else, afraid of any sudden movement on her part would scare him away. Always in control, Hannibal did it himself.

Meeting her forehead with his again, their breath mingled with each other as Abigail felt the sheen of sweat present on his skin. 

"I long to possess and consume you Abigail. I have already marked you as my own." He said as his hand gently caressed what used to be her ear. 

"You already do." She said, knowing that he could easily take advantage of her and she wouldn't protest it. 

Knowing now was the time to pull away, Hannibal gently stepped away from her. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes, but he tried to convince himself that it was all for the best. As he walked to the bathroom, Abigail heard Hannibal say something about how they should prepare for bed. 

Wrapping herself in the comforter, she went to grab her night clothes, but Hannibal stopped her. 

"Don't put anything on." He said before entering the bathroom. 

Crawling under the covers, she was tired from the past few hours. Leaving only her arms exposed, she felt herself drifting off to sleep when she heard the door open and felt the pacing of his steps toward the bed. Pondering his words, she felt the tell tale signs signs of her body beginning to move towards a deeper sleep when she felt his arm reach out for her and pull her closer. But on this night she felt his skin against hers. 

Not thinking they could be any closer, she felt both arms wrap around her and pull her in to where his head rested against her neck. This wasn't vulnerability. This was him wanting every piece of her. Wrapping her arms around him, she could feel the body parts that she had only heard and read about. This new awareness didn't seem to bother him. It felt as if he were already asleep, their body heat meshing together to create a new blanket. She gingerly felt his shoulder blades, and tried to pull him even closer to her. He accommodated her in that way, without hesitation. 

Clinging to him, she too was quick to fall into slumber. Her fears of his flesh against hers seemed so trivial compared to that moment. His breath on her collarbone, his arms holding her close, she hoped his fingers would leave permanent marks on her, signs that they were there. He didn't look at her as a fragile child that would break so easily. He saw her for what she really was, and his respect for her gave her that feeling in the stomach that she had heard so many of her friends talk about.

Hours later she opened her eyes and noticed that the moon was still out. Curious about the time, but not wanting to be released from the protective grip of her captor, Abigail shifted slightly to get a little more comfortable. Feeling his manhood against her leg, her breath paused. Immediately she felt the effect it had on her, but tried to act as if nothing had happened. 

"Is everything all right?" Hannibal asked softly.

"It's just my arm. It's asleep." She whispered.

Moving slightly so she could get more comfortable, she expected there to now be some distance between the two of them. But no, he reigned her back in. Even if they weren't as close as they were before, the two both lay on their sides, facing each other. Abigail didn't dare shut her eyes, but consciously made sure her breasts weren't revealed to him.

"I like being close to you." Hannibal said as he pushed a strand of hair out of her face. "It's never enough though." He continued as he ran his fingers along her shoulder and arm. His touch was visibly effecting her, and he could tell.

"I can smell your wetness." He whispered as he moved in closer. 

Knowing that she wasn't brave enough to dare him to touch her, she remained still, letting him chose the direction he saw fit. 

"Would you like me to touch you, Abigail? I would like to touch you." He asked in a whisper.

"Yes." She replied as his hand began to discover the map of her flesh. Feeling her pulse quicken, she didn't know what to do. It was one thing to hear and read stories, but to experience it was something she wasn't prepared for. Her own hand didn't even do it justice.

Hannibal gently pushed her on her back and slowly drew back the sheets of their bed. Feeling exposed and slightly embarrassed, Abigail crossed her arms over her breasts as she waited for him to complete the task. For the first time she saw him completely naked, and her heart swelled. That last time she recalled seeing such beauty was when she visited her friend David. 

He gently grabbed her arms and moved them above her head. Submitting herself to him, she realized that she wasn't ready for sex. Panic beginning to show itself on her face, Hannibal knew her too well. 

"I just want to touch you." He said reassuringly as he lay beside her. She kept her arms above her head and closed her eyes and she felt his hands worship her. She had never been caressed in such a loving manner. A hug wasn't by her parents wasn't even that loving. Feeling his hands on her breasts, she opened her eyes and saw his staring right back at her. It was then that she realized this moment wasn't about him - it was about her. 

Before he reached her aching center, he stopped. Trying not to let her frustration show, she heard his voice. It was guiding her back home.

"Show me how you like to be touched." 

Using both of her hands, she grasped his, and while he thought she would stay where he left his hand, she instead brought it back up to her face. Placing one hand on her neck and letting the other one remain on her face, she took turns with each hand as she guided it.

Eyes locked, she gently moved his hand up and down her neck, feeling the strength of it even though she was in control. Moving it across her collarbone and down between her breasts, Hannibal was surprised to note that she focused on the areas that were rather nonsexual in nature. Now moving to her belly, her stomach muscles contracted from the contact as her legs slithered slightly. 

He enjoyed watching her like this and wanted to know how often she thought of such nights like this, but the silence was too powerful to be broken. 

Using both hands, she guided him to her wet quim, and as one then two fingers entered her, her chest rose off of the bed. It was too much to take, and somehow Hannibal knew it. Exploring on his own, he felt her wetness and its immediate effect as his erection grew. Removing his fingers, he brought his fingers to her lips and she tasted herself. 

Dragging his fingers down her chest and back towards their final destination, Abigail felt every nerve in her body on standstill. His fingers were gentle as they moved around, and he watched her to see what she liked versus what she didn't. 

Trying to keep her voice in check, she moved her hands now to fondle her breasts, but Hannibal wanted to claim that prize for himself. 

Seeing her body arch up even higher, her neck and scar exposed, Hannibal replaced his fingers with his tongue and a sudden jolt of pleasure cracked its way up her spine. Not bothering to silence herself, felt her hips rise up to meet his magnificent mouth, but he gently pushed her down. His hands moved up to cup her breasts, and she looked down at him, wanting to die from the pleasure.

"Please..." she begged. "Please, make me come." She whispered as she felt one finger work its magic with his tongue.

Seconds later she felt it. Breathing through her mouth, she felt his lips trail kisses up her body before meeting her lips again. His hardness pressed against her, their eyes never left each other for what seemed like an eternity. Moving her hand to his penis, she felt the veins and wondered how something beautiful could fit inside of a human body. 

She didn't know what she was doing, but she could tell that he enjoyed it. Trying to remain in control, she felt like he was holding back.

"Show me how you like to be touched." She whispered as she felt him grab her hand and motion it up and down, pulling, but not too hard. Her thumb glanced along the head, and she felt a bit of liquid there. His eyes shut tightly, she continued to move her hand in the motion he gave her.

"Faster." He whispered as his body began moving slightly up and down. 

She could see the tension in his muscles, his arms holding his weight. 

Seeing him move in a way that one does once inside of another turned her on, and she honored his request. Seeing his body move in such a way along with the way he relinquished a bit of control to her made her desperate to pleasure him. She had never seen this side of him, and didn't dare squander such a thing. 

"Open your eyes." She said as he kept moving up and down. Seeing his dilated pupils and feeling him in such a manner made her hand move a bit faster. She knew he was close when his breathing became more and more erratic and his movements sharper.

Then she felt it hit her stomach. Still bracing himself as he caught his breath, Hannibal saw her dab her finger in his ejaculate and bring it to her lips to taste it. If he wouldn't have been so spent, he probably would have taken her right then and there. 

She welcomed his weight on her as she guided his body on top of hers. His flaccid member between their bodies, their heartbeats calming down as one. As she ran her hands through his hair, Abigail felt a moment of clarity upon her.

"I don't think I'm capable of loving another human being." Abigail said.

Feeling him embrace her back, his head reading beneath her chin, she felt his lips on her scar. He didn't reply to her declaration not because he disagreed, but because he knew exactly how she felt.


	8. Tell Your Father I Was Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day welcomes a new lesson for Abigail Hobbs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for taking the time to read this!

Hours later Hannibal woke up to an empty bed. The clock on the bedside table indicated that it was just past six in the morning, and he smelled breakfast being cooked in the kitchen. The sheets smelled of her, but he only noticed it for the first time in her absence. 

Sprawled on his back, he tried to soak up a few more minutes of solace but the smells enticed him. Taking a quick shower before entering the kitchen, he knew she was preparing pancakes. Basic, yes, but sometimes such rare things were to be honored. 

He noticed that she too had already showered and was dressed in the same dress he saw her in when they were reunited. Her hair was still wet, but it was piled up in a bun. 

"Our horse man didn't take to becoming pancetta, unfortunately." She said as he smelled the food. "I didn't want to waste anything, but I used some of that sausage you prepared." She continued, almost apologetic.

"It smells divine." He said as he kissed her bare shoulder. 

"I have class today, but I think we might get out early. Is there anything you would like to do this evening?" She asked.

"What would you like to do?" He asked as he prepared the two of them a cup of coffee.

"I was hoping you could teach me."

He knew exactly what she was asking to be educated on. 

"Do you have anyone in mind?" Hannibal asked in a slow, deliberate manner.

"No, but maybe we can hunt together." Abigail said, as she cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started whisking them.

"Do you believe that you are ready?"

"I don't think I'll ever truly be ready. I just figured that since you're going to be leaving soon..."

"You don't know when we're going to meet again." 

"Yes." She whispered, fear dripping off of the word.

"I've been looking forward to seeing you wear that dress I purchased for you again."

Her face lit up with glee as she put the eggs into the frying pan and carefully observed them. Minutes later the two feasted on a simple breakfast. Abigail was out the door an hour later, adding a cardigan to her dress, looking forward to the evening that lay in wait.

___

The two almost forgot that there was a lesson to be held that night as they conversed lightly in Italian over red wine. She appreciated wine, but when it came to making decisions over what was worthy enough to roll on her palette, they were left to him. He drove the two of them to their destination, not forgetting to make sure that his surgical tools were in the trunk of the car.

Sophia noticed that any time he had the opportunity to brush his skin against hers, he did. It wasn't anything too personal, but it was something she noticed all the same. The crowd at the restaurant was what one could expect on a weekend.

"Do you do this often?" She asked in English.

"Go out with lovely women? Not often enough." 

Not being able to conceal her smile, Sophia focused on the glass of wine in front of her. 

"See anything you like?" He asked.

"No one has been particularly rude, but the night is young." 

"I'm going to visit the men's room. If you'll excuse me." He said as he softly slid his hand on the small of her back.

Sophia knew that it wasn't just a trip to the bathroom; it was a chance for him to survey the building. 

"Hey there." The man spoke in Italian. "What's your name?"

"Sophia." She replied tersely. 

"Are you here with anyone?" He said as his finger grazed the back of her neck.

She knew when someone was trying too hard to hit on her.

"Yes I am." It wasn't spoken in a way that was truly convincing, but more or less to ward off unsavory suitors.

The man was a little too touchy for her taste, but she knew that he already had a few drinks in his system. He went on to dig for more information and he buttered her up with compliments about her eyes and hair. It was only when he tried to brush the hair behind her missing ear did he see the missing piece to her puzzle.

His immediate reaction was one of entitlement. She knew that the alcohol was doing the talking for him, and she also knew that she had found her first assignment. 

"What happened?" He asked in a way that Sophia immediately construed as rude.

"Would you really like to know?" She replied, her Italian getting better with each word as she felt Hannibal's presence behind her. He took the seat he was previously occupying, noticing his protege at work, but not trying to make it obvious that he was with her.

"You see that man sitting to my left?" She asked in Italian.

"Yes." The man said, acknowledging that Hannibal was there.

Moving her head closer to his, she knew that the man in front of her was now putty in her hands. 

"He cut it off." She whispered before grabbing his drink and taking a swig of it.

Hannibal watched all of this with absolute wonder. Seeing her bravado immediately made him flash back to the previous night. He saw her body arch into ecstasy; he heard the pleasure in her voice. He remembered how he moved over her, knowing that he was denying himself the opportunity to truly possess her. The glaze of her blue eyes haunted him now.

Hearing the flirty banter between his Sophia and the Italian whose name he now knew to be Amedeo, Hannibal made mental notes of what worked for her versus what didn't. Still not indicating that he truly was with Sophia to the man, Hannibal knew that Amedeo was going to be her second victim. Noticing Amedeo place his hand on Sophia's thigh, Hannibal wanted to put the man in his place, but he new that it would be alleviated in good time. 

He knew that this Amedeo wasn't the type that she would go for, but she was pretty convincing. A few moments later Hannibal noticed Amedeo walking towards the men's room. Grabbing her glass of wine and taking a sip, she knew exactly what her mentor was thinking.

"I take it you've found him."

"He's here alone because some woman stood him up. He's pretty inebriated, and he's due to leave on a trip tomorrow morning - hiking in the Swiss Alps. He nearly had his hand up my dress a few minutes ago. Amedeo doesn't truly understand the concept of no."

"How would you like to do this?" Hannibal asked.

"I noticed an alley out back as we drove in." 

As Sophia noticed Amedeo walking back towards her, she discreetly whispered to her companion,

"I'm curious as to what his tongue would taste like. He's not very loquacious." 

"I'll meet you in the back. The car will be ready." Hannibal said as he paid their tab and exited the building. It wasn't quick enough and he knew the man deserved his fate when he heard Amedeo say something to Sophia about how he was waiting for the old man to give up his seat.

Waiting in the back, it didn't take long before the stumbling drunk Amedeo was escorted to the dark, empty alley by Sophia. The drunk man was expecting something a little more physical, and when Sophia shoved him against the wall he grew more excited. Sensing Hannibal behind her, she smiled as she spoke,

"You know, I wasn't lying about what happened to my ear." Sophia said as she began to pull his dress shirt from his trousers. 

"What?" Amedeo said, before noticing the man that sat next to her in the bar was now behind her. 

Pulling his head closer to hers, as if she readying to kiss him, she continued,"Want to know what it feels like?" She asked him as Amedeo began to put the pieces together. 

He never had a chance to respond before Abigail grabbed his head and slammed it against the wall once, twice, and then three times. After he fell to the ground, she checked his pulse and could feel it fight for life. 

Hannibal noticed the slight way her heavier breath made her chest rise and fall with more voracity and he tried to swallow down the desire that rose in him. 

"We need to make sure everything is clean." Hannibal said as he began to chip away at the small spot of brick where Amedeo's blood was.

He showed her how to honor and respect the victim, especially when it came to removing the organs that once comprised Amedeo. In better circumstances, things would be a little neater, but it was Sophia's first time having total control of the situation.

Storing the organs, including the tongue, Hannibal knew exactly what he was going to do in terms of disposing the body. The outskirts of the city would provide the perfect place to bury the body, and Hannibal insisted on digging up the dirt rather than possibly ruin her lovely dress. She watched him dig, knowing that her education in this particular sport would not be easily earned. She also reminded herself that he had done this before; she wasn't foolish enough to believe that Florence was just some random city that he chose for her.

A while later when the two entered the flat, Sophia was eager to learn how to properly label and store the pieces of Amedeo. As soon as she locked the door and turned around, she was faced with Hannibal crushing his lips with hers. Giving in, she felt him pull her closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Feeling her body being pushed against the door, she felt pride in herself. He didn't have to tell her she did a good job. His hands roaming around her body told her so. 

"Hannibal" she whispered as she felt his lips move to her neck. 

"We have to store our ingredients." She said, trying to suppress a moan when she felt him lightly bite her neck. 

"Those are your ingredients." He said, placing his hands on her cheeks. "I'm very proud of you, but next time you need to be a bit more careful. One must always be careful and at least two steps ahead in the game." He said before walking towards the kitchen.

As the two prepared the liver, heart, tongue, and lungs of Amedeo, one question remained on the tip of her tongue. Wanting to know, but also not wanting to know, Sophia knew that it was better to bite the bullet.

"You said last night that you will be leaving in a few days. What constitutes a few days?" She asked as she rinsed the knife she was using.

"No more than five." He replied bluntly.

The two continued in their ritual. It was a comfortable silence that could only occur between the two of them. Before she even realized what she was saying, the words poured out of her mouth.

"I want to give you something before you go." She said, not even looking at Hannibal as she starting chopping up the lungs.

"What is that?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Me. My virginity. I want you to taste the blood. I want to taste it on you." She said, not caring if it disgusted him, even though she knew it wouldn't.

"How long have you thought about this?" Hannibal asked.

"Ever since you returned. Truth be told, I don't want you to leave, but I know it's inevitable."

"You could say that the two of us coming together was inevitable." 

She knew that his sentence was laced with innuendo, but she didn't let it show as the two continued in their task.


	9. The Other One Would Wait For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is running out and demons are exorcised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! This chapter was heavily influenced by the music of Daughter, especially their song "Tomorrow." (I take pride in introducing them to my sister.) I've even included a play on some of the lyrics. Kudos if you can catch them. Enjoy!

Five days. Those were the two words that lingered in his brain throughout the day. He knew that those two little words shouldn't bother him so much, but they remained. Spending his day at various shops, Hannibal visited places he thought she would like, not really knowing what he was searching for. As he continued to walk and watch the city go about its regular routine, Hannibal sat down on a bench overlooking the Ponte Vecchio, immediately thinking of her unfinished painting. 

He liked being ahead in the game, but the question of Sophia Larsen bothered him more than it should have. He couldn't regret their physical relationship - he enjoyed it more than he wanted to admit. Contemplating the time he had left with her for now, Hannibal watched the people as they walked on by. It took him another hour before he headed back to the flat.

Unlocking the door and entering their home, Hannibal was taken aback by the silence. Sophia should have been home by now, he noted, and when he saw her keys and bag placed next to the door it was confirmed. Hearing music from the bathroom, he treaded lightly to the room, noticing a little bit of light under the door. 

Placing some of the groceries he purchased up, he poured two glasses of wine and headed towards the bathroom. Listening to music, he knew that it didn't come from his personal collection. It wasn't loud enough to be a distraction, just loud enough for one in such a room to enjoy. Silently opening the door, he saw her in the bathtub with a folded towel placed over her eyes. There were a few candles lit around her. 

_...and your shoes will be gone and your body warmth no longer beside me_

She wasn't trying to be seductive. She looked exhausted, and it took her a few seconds to notice that someone else was in the room. She sat up a little straighter, but didn't remove the towel that covered her eyes. Sophia knew that it was too late to be modest in front of him, especially given what level their relationship was. Still not daring to move, she felt his warm hands gently lean her body back against the tub. His thumbs curved their way around her collarbone and moved up her neck and face before removing the small towel. Her hair was pinned up, and she was truly naked in front of him. His worries over her were confirmed when she closed her eyes. He could tell she was a bit shaken. 

Handing her a glass of wine, she thanked him with a smile before swirling and smelling the wine. Taking a sense of pride at her following his ritual before tasting the wonderful elixir in the glass, he placed his glass on the other side of the tub and began removing his clothes. Like second nature, Abigail accommodated him as he climbed into the tub. The two sat on the opposite sides, staring at each other as the song finished and moved onto the next track on her music player. 

Taking in the lyrics about wanting to feel something, she watched him relax in the water. Closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the porcelain, she felt his fingers gently move up and down her calves. 

"You seem troubled." Hannibal said.

"Today wasn't easy. I realized something when I was in class." She said as she watched droplets of water drip from her fingers. 

"What?" He asked, finding pleasure in her skin.

"Today was the wedding anniversary of my parents. I realized it in the middle of a technique class on butchering, ironically enough. They would have been married for twenty-two years."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I think I had a panic attack. I thought back to that moment when he turned on me. Days before he spoke of how much he loved me, only to lean towards my slaughter later. I still don't understand it. I don't understand him, and I don't think I ever want to. I just remember feeling like I was going to pass out; it was easy to pass it off given the class, but today was the first time in months when I truly remembered who I am."

"Who you were..."

"No. I'll always be Abigail Hobbs. We can change my name, hair color, even my personality, but deep down I'll always be her. I didn't want to do this in front of you." She said, wiping her eyes.

"You know you can tell me anything."

"Yes, but it's one-sided. You know everything about me, but I don't know anything about you."

"You know about me."

"I know the surface. I saw it the other night when you held yourself back, but I want to know who you are beneath the skin. I got a peek of him, but for someone who understands so much of what I'm feeling, I feel like the only reason you truly understand is because you've got your own demons. You are a rare breed Hannibal. You are well acquainted with mine. Why can't mine get acquainted with yours?" 

He took a few moments before responding to her question. She was right - too right about what she saw in him. He trusted her; the last few months proved that she was worthy of such a thing. Just when she thought he wouldn't open up a cabinet door to his past, he relaxed a bit in the tub.

"You feel like you've been stained because of your father and the domino effect his crimes had on you. Maybe you are, but every human is tainted at some point. I've been since I was a child." 

Feeling her hands on his calves, he continued.

"I lost my sister at a very young age. She was an innocent, and those responsible for her death were... you thought at one point that you were a monster. Those men were monsters."

Not expecting to have to talk about his past, Sophia found it odd that he seemed to jump from point to point in his narration. 

"A famous American writer once thought that in every man's life he would eventually come to a point where he would be given two options. One option would be the right thing to do, and the other would be it's opposite: an unpardonable sin. This wrong decision would forever soil his soul. My sin began as a child." Hannibal said.

He went on to talk about his sister and their childhood as if it were some twisted fairy tale. Two children from an affluent family that were orphaned at a young age and victims of hideous war crimes. Hannibal wasn't emotional with his own history. Years of compartmentalizing had led to such things. 

"Mischa was and still is everything." He said. It was the first time he mentioned her name. 

"That's why you spared me." Sophia whispered.

"Who knows what I would have become if she would still be alive? It is a useless question because the more I ponder it the more I realize that I think I would have still become the same person if things would have been different. I couldn't save her in that life, but I could save yours."

"I'm not your sister." She added, not knowing exactly how to feel. 

"No, you're not." Hannibal said as he moved towards her in the tub. 

As if knowing exactly what she was thinking, he wanted to clear up her confusion. Placing his hands on her face, she couldn't avoid his piercing eyes. Leaning into his touch, she borrowed his move and placed her forehead on his. The water was getting cold, and his skin so close to hers was a reminder of all that she could never truly have. 

"You spoke about how you thought you were not capable of loving another. I too have felt like that for so long." He whispered against her skin. "You are human though, and we are all capable of such a thing, even if it is rather abstract in nature. You think you are so numb that you can't feel anything..." He continued as he placed a hand on her breast.

Hearing her intake of breath, he added,

"You can. I see it now just as I did the other night." Hannibal said as he gently caressed it. 

"You're human too. If I am capable, then you are too." Sophia said.

"I know." He said, almost as if it were an epiphany. 

Weaving her arms around him, she held him as tightly as she could. Soon her legs were wrapped around him; it could have easily become sexual, but in that moment she felt as if some of both her past and his was being washed away with the water. She felt his arms hold her, wanting to know what he was thinking, but left it alone. Sometimes things were best left unsaid. 

Hannibal cradled her the way he had always done, feeling the weight of the two words that continued to run through his head. It was in that moment he knew that he would do whatever she asked, just as she would do the same for him. Feeling her heartbeat against his, an overwhelming sense of dread flowed through his veins. 

"Must you go?" She whispered against his hair. 

"If I don't it will only raise suspicion." He sadly replied.

"I don't want all of those tomorrows to come. I know I'll lose you."

"What story would you create to explain my absence?" Hannibal asked as he continued to hold her.

"You were tired of being surrounded by so much death. Needing a change of pace and a new setting, all you wanted was a little bit of stillness." Sophia whispered as she began to slowly rock the two of them side to side.

"In another life?" He asked, feeling her tears hit his skin.

"I know you'll be back. That's what makes it easier. You're my protector after all." 

They held each other until the water became too cold. Not bothering with dinner, the two lay side by side on the bed, waiting for the other to fall into a sleep knowing that while time was running out, joy would eventually be had.


	10. Four Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun with tomatoes and a dark realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post something sooner, but I didn't think the chapter was truly ready. I'm not too familiar with publishing rights in foreign countries, so I took some creative liberties here. Hope you all enjoy!

The next morning Abigail woke up feeling the strong arm of Hannibal wrapped around her. Naked, but used to each other, Abigail was excited about the fact that she didn't have any classes that day. The day was full of promise, and she tried to contain the smile that plastered itself on her face as she inhaled the scent of the man next to her. 

Tracing his form, she hoped that he didn't think her rude. Her curiosity was getting the better of her as her fingers made their way to his face. His face, even in sleep, still was unreadable. She could never tell if he was having a restful sleep or if there were nightmares haunting him. Moving her fingers over his eyebrows, he opened his eyes and met hers. He could have been awake for all that she knew. 

Pulling her closer, she would have let him suffocate her if it meant that his arms would do it. 

"What shall we do today?" Hannibal asked. 

"Want to go to the Uffizi?" Sophia asked.

"I'd rather stay here with you." He said as he kissed her forehead before moving to her lips. 

As he traced circles on her bare back, she gently did the same on his chest. For two people whose physical relationship was unconsummated, their position would speak otherwise. 

"But that still doesn't answer the question." She asked.

"Read. Talk. Cook. I'm sure we could find a way to pass the time."

"I know that you don't know when, but... will there be another three months between us?" She asked, lightly biting his shoulder. 

Noticing the bite and trying to quell his desire for her, Hannibal continued to stroke her back. 

"I cannot provide that answer for you right now, I'm afraid." He said as he pulled her head under his chin. Feeling her breasts pressed against his chest, he didn't want her to see how her question and her body was effecting him. 

"And there in lies the torture." She whispered.

"I will protect you for as long as I can. You know that."

"Yes. It's just nice to have someone here. It's pathetic, I know, but things won't be the same."

"Things haven't been the same for you ever since this" he said as he ran his finger over the scar on her throat.

"Don't forget this" she said, taking that same hand and placing it where her ear was removed.

"I know that things will be fine. Sometimes I just need to be reminded of it." She said. 

"Mistakes do happen."

Taking a few seconds to digest his words, she knew they were laced with a deeper meaning.

"You think you're going to get caught?" 

"I am not arrogant enough to think that is not a possibility." Hannibal said, his fingers still moving over her skin.

"Should we be worried?"

"You have nothing to worry about. If something were to occur, there is a backup plan that will be initiated if such a thing happens. You will be protected."

"And then?" Abigail asked, looking at the man whose embrace she was in.

"You wait." He said with such certainty. It was if he was predicting his future - their future.

Sighing and placing her head beneath his chin again, it felt as if a ton of bricks hit her in the chest. Hannibal Lecter was one of the smartest men she had known, and even he knew that there would come the day when he would have to answer for his crimes. 

"I sincerely hope that never happens." 

"You know I can't make such promises."

"Then don't."

The two didn't stay in bed for too long before the growling of her stomach forced them to get their day started. The day was spent browsing for books at a local bookstore.

"Look what I found in the 'new and noteable' section." Sophia said as she held an Italian version of book Freddie Lounds wrote about her father.

Hannibal wasn't impressed with the book, and never needed to voice his displeasure, but did offer up a few words.

"How that book managed to get published here so quickly is rather astounding. From what I heard in interviews, she was able to finish the book shortly after you 'died'. There were offers before she even finished the book."

Flipping through the book, Sophia saw some of the crime scene photos. It was all still new, but as she saw the picture of herself with her father she couldn't help but think back to the day it was taken. The lessons he taught her were still fresh in her memory.

"She started this book long before she met me." She said, finding a chapter devoted to her. 

Not being able to resist, she began skimming through it, wondering just what kind of impression Lounds gathered of her. After a few minutes she slammed the book shut and went to place it where she originally found it.

A little while later the two of them were people watching at the cafe they were reunited at. It wasn't exactly what Hannibal had planned for their day, but he knew that Sophia could easily get a bit stir crazy if indoors for too long. Sipping their drinks and hearing the usual sounds that came from the city, Hannibal was curious about what disturbed Sophia so much.

"I take it you found the chapter devoted to you and your so-called character."

"You read the book?" She asked.

"Unfortunately."

"Do you believe what she wrote about me? It was bad enough having people _think_ that I was directly involved, but she flat out states that I picked them and I got off on it even. According to her I made Elizabeth Bathory look like a saint."

"Freddie Lounds knows what will sell books."

"She's very rude, that woman."

"Yes she is."

"I suppose I have no right to truly be angry. Abigail Hobbs is dead, so it's easier to speak ill of those who aren't around to defend themselves. It just stings a little too much. I thought I could trust her. I thought she had my back."

"Ms. Lounds is one of those creatures who is willing to do whatever necessary to ensure her own type of survival." Hannibal said.

"Kind of like us." Sophia added, almost laughing.

"She will have to answer for her rudeness... all in good time." 

___

Later on that night the two worked together to prepare the feast that was Amedeo's liver. 

"Beautiful tomatoes." Sophia said as she coated the liver in a light dusting of flour and polenta.

"Alana Bloom didn't appear to care for them." Hannibal said as he delicately carved his second tomato.

Using the paring knife, he had taken his time to create the edible art when he saw Sophia look across the counter, trying to see how he was doing such a splendid job. 

"Will you teach me?" Sophia asked, a gleam of wonder in her eyes. 

He didn't verbalize permission, but the slight smile on his face was all the permission she needed. Grabbing another paring knife, Sophia made her way to her tutor and grabbed a tomato as she studiously waited for Hannibal's instruction. 

Standing next to him, she carefully observed as he patiently showed her how he created such beautiful art. Still, something wasn't connecting. Sensing her frustration at not being able to get it just right, Hannibal stood behind Abigail and placed one hand over her knife hand and the other one over the one holding the tomato. 

"This is your first time doing this; perfection takes time." Hannibal said. 

Feeling him against her, Sophia realized that it was no longer just a lesson on culinary precision. Having his hands guide hers, she knew he felt the immediate effect he had on her. It was so easy to lean her head back onto his chest, still paying attention to what he was trying to teach her. With slow and deliberate movements, his fingers pushed hers in the different movements necessary. 

"The cliche of people eating with their eyes first is very true... and I'm not just talking about food. It can apply to other things too." He whispered as his lips moved to her neck.

She tried to recreate what he had been trying to teach her. His hands moved to her hips, slowly moving up and down. His touch was electric, and she knew that he would expect her to continue with her lesson until it was up to his standards. 

Two tomato roses became four. Four soon became six. 

Hannibal continued to slowly run his hands up and down her waist until he bent down and moved his hands farther down. Now it was flesh on flesh, the fabric of her skirt no longer reaching her legs. As she continued to carve her seventh tomato, she could imagine exactly how his face looked: concentrated, stern, but one eager for the rapture. 

Biting her lip, she reminded herself to breathe while continuing to concentrate on her assignment. His hands were moving up her dress, fingers slowly caressing the insides of her thighs. It didn't take long for him to remove her underwear, almost as if it were the most natural thing for them to do in the kitchen. With his guidance, she spread her legs out a little more, still focusing on the tomatoes.

Even when his tongue was inside of her, she braced herself for a second, but continued. She knew that this was not just a test, but a final. Softly moaning, Hannibal continued to taste her. Hearing the knife fall from her hand, it clattered to the floor next to his feet, but he still continued. Gripping the counter, she couldn't communicate the words she wanted to say. 

Hannibal could hear the soft gasps that escaped her mouth, wanting to swallow them with his own. Lapping up her essence, he gently gripped her legs to keep her still. Her whimpers turned him on even more and while she wasn't begging for a release, he could feel her desperation for one. 

He wished to see her blue eyes when she came just a few seconds later. Feeling her beginning to break her stance, he held onto her as her body slid down to the floor. She felt boneless, and Hannibal could see the sheen of sweat on her forehead. 

Seeing the knife next to them, Hannibal wanted to ask her why she stopped, but as if reading his mind she stated:

"There are no more tomatoes."

The two began to laugh as he brought her lips to his. After a few minutes, the two continued the preparation of their meal. 

After the two ate and cleaned up the kitchen, Abigail was getting in a few more chapters of the biography on Van Gogh while Hannibal was doing his own bit of reading. Stretching her legs out, she wanted to place them on his lap, but thought it would be too presumptuous. Not understanding her shyness, after all, he did just get her off in the kitchen, Sophia still held on to some of her hesitation.

As if reading her mind, Hannibal grabbed her legs and placed them on top of his thighs. Glad to have the book conceal her smile, she continued to read as she felt him slowly run his fingers up and down her foot, one at a time. She was good at keeping the uneasiness from settling into the pit of her stomach, but she knew that less than 96 hours stood between the two of them being separated again. 

Resigning herself to letting the chips fall where they may, she refocused her attention to the Italian words on the page. Every now and again she would get stumped on a word, but rather than get up to grab her dictionary, she would ask Hannibal to help her. 

Hannibal noticed her touch the area her missing ear was in every now and again. Given her choice of reading material, it didn't surprise him, but he noticed that she didn't appear to notice what she was doing. He also noticed how she unconsciously drew her fingers across her collarbone. She was a specimen to be observed no more. Here was a woman who proved that she could not only survive, but become something bigger and better than herself. Hannibal tried to hide the smirk on his face. 

"What's so funny?" Sophia asked.

"I wouldn't use that word. I was leaning more towards intrigued."

"What's so 'intriguing' then?" She asked, placing the book on her chest.

"You are." He said, noting the look on her face. It was one of surprise. 

"Pray tell Dr. Lecter."

"I admit that I was a bit hesitant those months ago. My initial plan was to take your life. I thought that maybe you were meant to die in that kitchen as your father had. I even mentioned it to Will Graham at some point. I never made such a call as that - sparing someone."

Sophia wasn't shocked at the knowledge that he did intend on killing her. She wasn't even scared. Sitting up and making her way to his side of the couch, Sophia didn't really know what to say.

"I appreciate your candor."

"It doesn't scare you that I was going to kill you?"

"What's the point of dwelling on it? You didn't. Besides, it would have been more merciful than what my father attempted."

"Do you not worry about the future?"

She didn't want to think that such an ending was possible, but of all the lessons she would ever learn from Hannibal Lecter, knowing that sometimes loose ends had to be cut was probably the most important one. It was also the most difficult one. Thinking back on the last year of her life, she could only think of a few words in response to his question.

"Just honor me" she whispered. 

Feeling the breath that was released from his lips, Sophia noticed something change in Hannibal's demeanor. It was as if he expected her to beg for such an ending never to occur, but she knew it was a foolish, trivial thing. Maybe seeing what she saw and knowing what she did, death wasn't something to be dreaded and feared. With people like them, it was to be welcomed when the time came.

"Abigail, let's go to bed." He whispered against her cheek.


	11. Beside Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood and roses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank those of you who have been very patient with me. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Hearing her friends talk about the connecting of human flesh paled in comparison to everything else she had ever known. Sure, there was always that curiosity, but all of her imaginings never added up to the moment Hannibal Lecter stood in front of her and slowly pulled a dress over her head. 

She recalled hearing him say something about how he imagined removing it the first time he saw her wearing it. Almost frozen, she didn't move to reveal any of his skin to her. A sudden chill entered the room as she stood in front of him in her undergarments. He had seen her naked, felt her against him, but now she suddenly became shy when he stood in front of her. 

His touch wasn't laced with expectations, but insecurities she thought were squashed came back in full force. Standing in front of her, he observed her, and as if reading the thoughts as they ran through her brain, she heard him say,

"We don't have to do anything that you don't want to."

"Call me Abigail, please" she said as she grabbed his hands and placed them on her covered breasts.

She hoped she wasn't being too forward; it was something that some guys didn't appreciate according to her friends. But then again...

"Abigail."

Kissing him, she could feel her body igniting under his touch. Slowly gaining courage, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She gave in to him just as he did her. Wanting to savor every kiss and every touch, she felt him move his hands over her shoulders. Seconds later he pushed her away.

"Tell me what you want." Hannibal said.

Giving herself a few seconds to contemplate his words, she knew that he wasn't really curious. He wanted to hear her say them.

"I think you know already." She whispered.

"I want to hear you say it Abigail."

"I want... I need to feel something."

"Didn't you feel something earlier tonight?" Hannibal asked as he lowered his head down to her stomach. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he hovered over her midsection. 

"I need to feel, oh..." Abigail sighed as she felt his lips graze over her stomach. Smelling her, it was as if he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"What do you need to feel?" He continued, now peppering her flesh with his lips.

Trying to think of something that wouldn't make her sound foolish, she decided to just speak without thinking.

"I need to be devoured by you. I want to feel like it's only you and me in this world. You can do whatever you want, whatever you need, just possess me."

"But would you be pleased?" Hannibal countered.

"One taste is never enough." Abigail whispered.

"Would you not like to possess me?" He asked as he began to remove her underwear. 

"I don't think I ever could." She honestly answered, watching him. 

"Why not?" Hannibal asked as he gently guided her legs towards the bed.

Each move was calculated. As always, he was at least two steps ahead of her.

"I don't have that kind of power." 

Removing her bra and gently pushing her on the bed, she wondered when his clothes were going to be removed. Abigail wanted to ask, but she somehow didn't think it would be appropriate.

"I seem to recall a statement you made a few days ago in regards to the blood from your maidenhead. You think those words didn't have an effect on me?" Hannibal said as he began removing his clothes. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pants, keeping his eyes directly on hers as continued with everything else. 

It was as if he moved them elsewhere, she would disappear. 

"People don't only honor others in death. They can honor them too in life." He added as he moved onto the bed. She felt him in all of his glory pressed against her. Suddenly nervous, she immediately recognized the look in his eyes. He was a starving man that was ready to devour his prey.

"So I ask you again Abigail, what do you want?" Hannibal asked as his hands began roaming the territory of her body.

"Honor me." She whispered as his lips met a breast. 

His lips trailed over her flesh, igniting a fire within her. Her heartbeat quickened with each kiss, and Hannibal knew that her body was more than prepared for him. It would be too easy to alleviate that situation; they both knew that. Running her hands over his back, she could feel the muscles moving under her fingers as she gave into him.

The only sound in the room was the sound of two breaths mingling. Desperate to see him, she pulled his lips to hers, needing to be reminded that it was really just the two of them. Looking into her eyes, his fingers moved to her neck, worshiping the scar with his fingertips. 

Looking up at him, she felt as if he were looking through her. There was admiration in his eyes, and for a moment she thought that maybe she could be his equal one day. 

"I see you." He whispered, now lovingly running his fingers through her hair. 

She could feel his hardness pressed against her, she could only think of one word to say.

"Please." Abigail begged, kissing his neck. Feeling the pulse of his jugular, she wasn't entirely against begging if that was what it took. 

"I want to feel myself drowning in you." She whispered. 

Rising up to his knees, Abigail held her breath, worried that he wouldn't heed her request. If there was one thing she wasn't an expert at it was reading him. His eyes remained on hers, but the stillness began to frighten her. 

She didn't notice his hands touching her arms, stomach, and legs. She didn't notice him spread her legs a little wider. Watching the man who was to devour her move so swiftly and with such grace, she was under his spell. He could pull a knife from under the pillow and slit her throat and she would have met his eyes with the same look of wonder. 

"You know that it will hurt." Hannibal said as he slowly inched himself in her before slowly pulling out. He noticed the way her breath changed with each movement.

"I know. I also know that no one else would appreciate such a gift." Abigail said as she ran her hands over his chest and stomach.

Feeling him slowly enter and pull out made her hunger even stronger. Eager for him to speed things up, but not willing to give up the sensual tension that could only come from the slowness, Abigail felt her body accommodating his. She knew he was being gentle while he could, and seeing the almost blue sheen on his skin that only the moonlight could provide, she would have been happy to have him continue with the slow piston all night. 

Observing her movements, Hannibal originally planned on telling her when he was going to fully enter her, but seeing her beginning to match his movements and the look of pure admiration on her face made it impossible and without warning he felt the stillness as he tore her barrier. She swore she heard a grunt escape his lips, but all she could focus on was the feeling of him in her.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. Knowing to wait and give her time, he licked the tear from her face and waited for her. Feeling their heartbeats merge into one, her blue eyes gave him a look that told him that she was ready for him to continue. 

Slowly continuing to move within her, he felt her move her legs up to the side of his waist. Noticing the difference immediately, her sighs of pleasure became more vocal as he began to quicken his pace. Moving one hand to grip her leg, he saw her bite her lip as a means to control the sounds that needed to escape her mouth.

"Don't hold back. There's no need to be ashamed of what you are feeling." Hannibal whispered against her lips as he softly nibbled the bottom one. 

"I want to hear everything." He said in that accent that would drive any female to the brink.

Not one to deny his request, Abigail felt her body synch with his as they moved together. As he began to pick up the pace a little more, she felt her body arch off of the bed. Reaching for him, she felt his hands grab hers and placed them on each side of her head. 

Hannibal was glad that she wasn't a screamer. If anything, he felt that bodies merging wasn't supposed to be a competition over who had the most impressive vocal chords. He could feel she was close - she just needed that final push.

Kissing her lips roughly, he entered her with aggression. Feeling her hands on his back and then on his buttocks pushing him in, clinging to him, it was as if she needed him to be closer. 

"Come for me Abigail." He spoke into her lips, ready for his own release. 

And then it happened. Swallowing the scream of her orgasm with his own mouth, it only took him two more movements before he felt his seed inside of her. Giving her a few seconds to catch herself, Hannibal didn't waste any time placing his hand in her sensitive passage. 

Taking what little blood was left mixed with his own essence, he rubbed it against her taut stomach. Her skin had an immediate reaction to his touch. 

"You mentioned earlier that you didn't think you had the power to possess me." Hannibal said as he continued to lightly massage such a life force on her skin. 

"You have been doing it for some time now, so here I honor you." 

Heeding her original request, he moved up her body with his tongue running over the red.

"Don't ever doubt your own powers of possession." Hannibal said before he met her lips. 

Their tongues battled for dominance as he pulled her up to meet him. Both sitting up, she melted perfectly in his lap as he positioned himself at her entrance. 

Entering her again, he felt her grip him even harder. She was so tight, so willing and as she muffled her cries with his shoulder, she didn't realize that she bit him when he made her come until he did the same to her. Too exhausted to let go, she held onto him as he lay them both down on the bed. 

Pushing his hair out of his face, she felt the exhaustion catch up with her. Closing her eyes, she hummed as she felt his hands run over her flesh. If she could bottle that feeling she would, knowing that it would never cease to amaze her. 

Hannibal removed his weight from her but kept her close. Facing him, she opened her eyes and the two stared at each other. 

"Thank you." She whispered.

"For taking your maidenhead?" He asked as he continued to touch her.

"No. Thank you for taking that chance by giving me another one."

"You thanked me already, months ago in a the dingiest motel room I ever encountered."

Smiling into his skin, she took comfort in him rubbing circles on her back. Moaning her approval, she buried her head under his neck.

"I'm thanking you again. I can't recall ever feeling more alive. I felt like I was dead until you introduced me to Sophia Larsen."

Kissing her forehead he waited for her to continue, but he knew she was asleep. Finding himself giving in to the peaceful stillness, he held her closer. All he could see in the darkness were her eyes as he entered her. All he could hear was her voice as she came. For the next few weeks it would have to be enough.


	12. Last Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm figuring there are about two, maybe even three more chapters left. At the last minute I added a little something to the story, but I hope you find it worth the wait. I have an idea of where I want to go with this story, so while the ending is kind of sad, I already have an idea for another story. Happy reading!

Hannibal awoke and stretched out his legs before looking to the side to see the nude form of his beloved companion next to him. Still at rest, but spread out like a delicacy, he couldn't resist pulling the sheet of their bed down a little to admire her back. 

Running his hands along the side of her torso, he knew she was awake when he started moving his lips up her spine. When she attempted to turn over, Hannibal gently held her down as he continued to worship her flesh. Moving up even more, he swept aside her hair and kissed the back of her neck. Now on top of her, she could feel him pressed against her.

"How are you feeling this morning?" He asked, his hair falling onto her skin. 

"I feel completely ravished." 

She didn't have to see his face to know that an expression of accomplishment graced his features. His cheeks now resting against hers, the two rested in that position. His weight was welcomed on her, almost needed. 

"I hope I didn't ruin your sheets." Sophia said, sleep still in her system.

"Such things can always be replaced." Hannibal said as he rested his hands on her shoulders. Smelling her skin, he knew that it would forever remain in his memory. 

"Are you uncomfortable?" He asked.

"Why would I be? I won't break, you know." She said. 

"We should get up."

"Must we?" 

"Have I created some sort of carnal monster?" Hannibal asked as he lifted himself off of her.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Sophia responded as she turned over, still a bit uncomfortable being completely exposed to him. 

Hannibal noticed her reaching for the sheet to cover herself, but he grabbed her arms and placed them on the sides of her head. Feeling the hardness of his cock pressed against her stomach, she wanted nothing more than to welcome him into her aching flesh. 

Noticing her gasp of recognition, Hannibal stared at her. Slightly intimidated by the idea of being naked in the daylight, he tightened his grip a bit. He knew that she must be sore, but the desire in her eyes spoke otherwise. They were begging for him to do something.

Slowly entering her, Hannibal focused his attention on her face. Breathing through her mouth, he kept his eyes on her as he carefully moved within her. To see her now, with the sun illuminating the room somehow made their bonding more powerful. 

She kept her eyes on him, but every now and again she couldn't help but look at their meeting point. Watching him enter her made her body burn with desire for him. He knew that she must be sore, and his gentleness only made her want him more. 

Removing his hands from her wrists, Hannibal placed his hands on her face and lowered his lips to hers. Moaning into his lips, Sophia clutched his back. As his lips moved to her neck, she was more than willing to provide him the roadmap of her body. 

His hair tickled her skin, and she tried to push it away from his face as he moved his lips back to hers. It was as if he wanted to have her as many times as possible because he didn't know when they would meet again. 

Hannibal could tell by the look in her eyes that she was close, and as he delved deeper into her, he felt as if he could see her soul, even though he ceased to believe in such a thing years ago. Grabbing him, she was so close to the edge, and he could tell that she came when she whispered his name.

"Hannibal."

Closing her eyes, she loosened her arms and began running her fingers through his hair as she felt him slightly quicken his pace. He muttered her name on the scar her father left as his parting gift when he found his own release. 

Feeling the light sheen of sweat on their skin, Abigail held him for as long as he would allow it. After a few minutes, Hannibal gently removed himself from her and reached her for hand to assist her up. 

"I'm going to take a quick shower." She said as she slowly stood up, noticing the soreness inside of her.

"Given what has happened three times, a bath is more appropriate." Hannibal said.

Looking up at him, she waited for him to explain.

"The warm water will aide in getting rid of the soreness."

"Oh." She said as she allowed him to lead her into the bathroom. Seeing a small speck of dried blood on her stomach, she heard the bath water being run for her. Examining the rest of her body, she didn't know why she was looking. It wasn't like anything was going to be different. She wasn't a new person physically. 

"Abigail..." She heard him say.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I could get you a muscle relaxer." He said as he moved in front of her, concern etched on his face.

"No thanks. I'm sure the bath will help." She said as she ran her fingers over the parts of his flesh she so rightfully claimed the night before.

"Come." He said as he guided her toward the tub.

Abigail climbed in, stretching her body out as she continued to ease into the water. Closing her eyes, she didn't expect her protector to join her. Gently moving her forward, Hannibal positioned himself behind her in the tub. Pulling her back against his chest, the two sat in silence. 

She could have easily fallen asleep, but feeling the rise and fall of his chest in a hypnotic rhythm fueled the thoughts and questions she had in her mind. Feeling his hands move over her stomach and breasts, she could already feel her body beginning to react to his. 

"Is it always going to be like this?" She asked.

"Like what?"

"Am I to become some cat in heat whenever you touch me?" She asked as she looked at him.

He smiled at her as he continued to let his hands roam over her flesh. 

"This is all new to you. You seemed to enjoy yourself."

"It was better than I imagined it could be."

"I've never seen a woman so beautiful when in the grips of la petite mort." Hannibal said before kissing her shoulder.

Smiling at his use of the French term, she relaxed into his body. Hannibal knew that her body would need a little more time to adjust to the new world he introduced her to. Feeling her skin against his, he was curious as to how far he could push her carnally. Sure that she would be willing to try just about anything if he suggested it, Hannibal smirked as he kissed her shoulder again. 

"I know this might be the wrong thing to say at such a time, but aren't you concerned about protection?" Abigail asked.

"I've seen your prescription in the medicine drawer if that's what you're worried about. Are you concerned about my own history?" He asked.

"No, not really. I just know how you like to be a few steps ahead in the game."

"You are correct. I've always been diligent about certain things: what I put into my body and who I I allow to take from it." He whispered.

Even if he didn't mean for it to be seductive, it still exited his lips that way. 

"The real question is, do you consider yourself part of a game?" He asked as he ran his hands down her spine.

"I don't know. If the cards were dealt differently I doubt we would have, you know..."

"Become lovers."

"Yes."

"You would be dead."

"And untouched." She added. 

"How long will the soreness last?" Abigail asked.

"It depends. Every body is different. The water will help." He replied as he grabbed a washcloth and the bar of soap. Lathering up the soap, he began to pass it over her skin. The scent of jasmine engulfed her nose and she let him run the cloth over every inch of her skin. When it was his turn, she obliged him as well. Something as simple as a bath could quickly become something else, and even has Abigail brought her lips to his neck and chest they both knew that her body was quite ready yet.

After cleansing each other, the two mapped out their plans for the day. The knowledge that he would be leaving soon made her worries more present. Not feeling comfortable enough to talk to him about it, she knew that it would be useless to ask what the back up plan was. When it would be time to attend to it, then it would happen. 

Later that afternoon after taking a stroll around the city, Sophia allowed his footsteps that lead them wherever. To some they looked like companions just walking around on holiday, but if one were to look closer that person would see the bond that blood and secrets cemented between them. 

Not one for romantic overtures, Sophia was surprised when Hannibal grabbed her hand. Not thinking too much about the gesture, she continued to walk along side him, wanting to see the world through his eyes. 

Taking her to the Piazzale Michelangelo, the two took in the panoramic view of the city. She had been here before, but never with him. Feeling his hand on the small of her back, the two ignored the tourists and acted as if they were the only ones there. As the sun began to set, the view became even more beautiful.

"Just when I thought this city couldn't get any more beautiful." She observed.

"You forget that it's the people that add to it also." 

Looking down, she knew that his response was laced with meaning. Placing his hand on the rail, she gently placed hers over his. Going with her gut, she leaned her head against his shoulder, hoping that her forwardness didn't put him off. Even with all that they shared, she still worried about her motions. Removing his hand from under hers, Sophia worried that she pushed too hard. Feeling his arm move and wrap itself around her shoulder, he pulled her in. 

Maybe it was foolish to indulge in such a physical thing since their time was fleeting, but he couldn't imagine not doing such a thing. It wasn't love - they both knew that. It was something much more complicated and deeper. There was no word for it, and they were both content with the idea of it.

That night as she straddled him, she tried not to let her nervousness show. He was ready for her, she could tell, and as she allowed him to tutor her on so many things, this too would be a lesson. Their evening had been nothing too exciting, but such things were arbitrary compared to what was happening in that moment. 

She was the one who had power over him, and it was a feeling she wasn't too quick to give away. Pressing herself down on him, taking him in inch by inch, she still felt a slight soreness. Not willing to let a little discomfort deter her, she felt him fill her as her breath exited her mouth. 

Watching her, Hannibal knew it was best to let her do things her own way. This was her first time in such a position, and he knew that letting her discover things without his guidance would be best. Seeing her nipples pebble under her own touch, he replaced her hands with his. Scraping her nails on his torso, it took her a few seconds to get used to the position. It still wasn't ever going to be enough, even as her cervix met his body.

There was a stillness between them. They both knew what they had to do, but as the two stared at each other, it was a battle to see who would be the first one to move. She knew that he would never relent, and the electric humming of her body wasn't something she could easily shelve. 

Slowly moving, she immediately felt the difference. Friends from her former life told her that this position was supposedly the best one for women when it came to chasing the sometimes elusive little death. As the two kept their eyes on each other, she knew that she wouldn't have any trouble in that department. Biting her lip as a means to keep her eyes open, she watched him watching her. 

Grabbing his hand and placing it on her throat, she held it on her neck for a few seconds before she placed his hand at her slit. Taking the cue, he gently entered a finger into her wet passage and knew that he was doing something right when he noticed her neck arch back even more. Her scar stood out in that moment, and as he heard the gasps escape her mouth, he continued to trace his finger over the delicate nub in her. Before he could pick up the pace, she grabbed his hand and placed the finger that had just entered her into her mouth. 

Slowly rolling her tongue and scraping her teeth over his digit, she could see the hunger in his eyes as he began to move his hips to meet hers. Hannibal didn't care if he came; he could watch her all night if necessary. After removing his hand and placing it on her hip, she still wanted some sort of guidance. 

"I love seeing you like this, so uninhibited, so wanton." Hannibal said as she continued to move on him. For every stroke he gave her, she met him. "Take what you need from me Abigail. You don't have to be shy and don't need to hold back."

Suddenly sitting up to meet her, it took her by surprise when his eyes met hers. 

"I still see you." He whispered before he captured her lips and forced his tongue into her mouth. 

He could tell that his words turned her on. Placing both of her hands on his chest, she pushed him back on the bed before she began to get a bit more aggressive as her body merged with his. 

"Yes, that's it. How you've changed." He said, as he slowly moved his body to meet hers. "That's it."

She began speaking in Italian, and while he didn't hear every word she said, he was pretty sure she said something to the tune asking him to fuck her. Such language, even in Italian wasn't what he preferred to hear, but when it rolled off of her lips with such pleasure it send a spark to own his loins. 

Hannibal slowly thrust into her, enjoying the new side of her, but he knew that this side had to have been there all along. She wasn't a monster. She was no longer a victim. She had evolved into something better, something more superior. 

"Do you want me to fuck you, Abigail?" Hannibal asked in his usual tone.

The question obviously had the effect he hoped it would. 

"Do you want me to fill you? Do you still want to be consumed?"

"I'll always want that." She whispered as she leaned forward and met her lips with his. 

She picked up the pace and didn't care if she made him uncomfortable as she bit his lower lip and tasted his blood. It worked to her advantage because he began to meet her aggression with his strokes. 

"Draw my blood." She said as she continued to ride him. 

Wanting to mark his possession on any place other than her lips, he moved his lips to the scar on her neck and sank his teeth into her flesh. Hannibal could tell that she came. Hearing her eager response, the two continued their battle, and upon tasting a tiny bit of her blood, he came.

Keeping him inside of her, she spread herself on his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he knew that Sophia Larsen could be the downfall of him.


	13. Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this one!!!!! I hope you all enjoy this one.

As Hannibal prepared breakfast, he tried not to let his last day in Florence weigh on him. Remembering the day he returned as he separated the egg whites from the yolks, he saw the images play out of the evolution of their relationship. He smiled as he focused on the last image: her face when she came. It was the one image he never wanted to forget. Even if he were to get caught, that picture would forever stay with him.

His flight to Baltimore was due to leave the next evening, so he intended to spend as much time with his protege as possible. Sophia had complained about one of her classmates recently; she was a belligerent American girl from the Los Angeles area who wasn't shy about her disdain towards the instructor. Heidi even possessed the audacity to insist that another instructor was better suited for their course on the fine art of baking. Handling Heidi would be an activity for their evening, and Sophia already had a "recipe" for a souffle she wanted to try. 

Not wanting to think about what awaited him back home, Hannibal focused his attention on the protein scramble that would give them a wonderful start to the day. Discussing the plan on meeting up with Heidi, Hannibal listened to Sophia specifically map out what she was going to do (meet Heidi for drinks) and where she was going to go (a bar close to Heidi's flat thirty minutes outside of the city). He knew that his guidance would be useful, when needed. Listening to her plans, he felt a sense of pride as he observed her drawing out what she planned on using each vital organ for. 

The hours before the evening were spent listening to music and Hannibal even taught Sophia a few dances he learned along the way in his own education. Holding her close, he inhaled the scent of her hair and felt the softness of her skin, still amazed at how it melded into his under his touch. Neither wanted to talk about what awaited the both of them the next day. They acted as if such a separation never existed. It made the time left easier. 

That night Hannibal observed Sophia have a ladies night with Heidi. He would overhear Sophia feed Heidi useless words of how she unfairly judged the girl and that maybe the instructor wasn't worth their tuition money. It was a little easier for her given that Heidi wasn't someone who needed much to get drunk. Later that night Hannibal could sense the frustration on Sophia's features as he witnessed her drunk classmate trip and fall.

"It was so uneventful!" Sophia said as Hannibal drove them home. 

"Some would say she did the work for you." He responded, deliberately driving them around the city so where they wouldn't have to go back to the flat.

"Yeah, so drunk she tripped on her six inch heels and knocked herself out on the concrete."

"The fact that the two of you were alone made it easier, don't you agree?"

"Of course, but I wanted her to realize what she was being punished for."

"Sometimes we aren't granted that luxury."

Sure, Heidi's kidneys, liver, lungs, heart, and pancreas were carefully stored in a cooler in the back of the trunk. Sophia buried the body in the location that Hannibal showed her days ago. Sophia knew that she would have to do her own scouting for a new place to leave the bodies. 

"I've spent the last few days trying not to think of that time as a luxury." She said, looking out the window.

Feeling his hand on hers, she closed her eyes, knowing that her anchor was hours away from leaving.

That night as she aggressively moved on top of him, Hannibal could tell that she wasn't any closer to finding completion. Her strokes were powerful enough to move the bed a bit, and while Hannibal was more than willing to meet her movements, something was off. Placing his hands on hers which were planted on his chest, he hoped that the gentle touch would send a message. He wasn't entirely sure he was even communicating. Frustrated, Sophia felt the connection between the two of them, but she knew that his departure was what prevented her from feeling something close to completion. 

His hands, now on her waist, was an unspoken message for her to slow down. Sitting up, Hannibal looked closer and saw tears running down her cheeks. He knew exactly what was behind the tears, but rather than cheapen their time that remained, he wiped them away with his thumbs as he slowly kissed her. Hoping that his kiss could say all that he would never admit to, he turned them over and stared at her. When fresh tears emerged from her eyes, he licked the saline away as he began to move within her. As usual, his movements were slow and deliberate. 

She felt as if it would be the last time the two would ever see, feel, or submit to each other. There wasn't a fear of abandonment, but of uncertainty. So many things were unknown, and while most would tell her to move on with her life, Sophia knew that such a future was dim. 

Hannibal considered telling her that she should look for other lovers, but he knew what questions that would lead to. Plus, he didn't want to admit that he rather her not seek such intimate knowledge elsewhere. It was easy to excuse it away in his mind: if there was no one else in her life, there wouldn't be the potential of letting any secrets loose. Still, he knew that she wouldn't take any other lovers, and while he would never admit such a thing to her, he too would do the same. The hesitation remained on her features.

"Surrender yourself Abigail." Hannibal whispered against against her skin.

As he continued to move within her, he could hear her muttering words under her breath in Italian. He wanted to know what she was saying, but not knowing only made him drive into her harder. Pistoning slowly, Hannibal remained as controlled as he always was. Feeling her melt into him, if anything, he would miss the way her body fit into his so perfectly. He needed to hear her moans, her sighs, her breath as she tried to catch it. 

Grabbing his back, she clutched him closer to her as she felt him fully enter her. The sweat on their skin intermingled, and while she began to give in to his words, Sophia felt his hands push her hair away from her face. Grabbing his forearms, she felt the muscles that composed him move under her own skin. 

"Is this the last time?" Sophia whispered in Italian as she felt herself get closer and closer to the peak.

Instead of answer her, he only focused his eyes on hers as his body picked up its pace. Crashing his lips with hers, he knew that it could just be the words that rolled off of her tongue earlier. 

"Give... in..." Hannibal said, each thrust matching the word.

"You too..." Sophia whispered before she felt herself explode. Seconds later he joined her. 

Wrapping her arms around him, she felt him roll them to the side. Catching her breath, she tried to stop the tears that began to form in her eyes.

"There is no need to cry." He said in a consoling manner.

"I know; I'm just happy that you're here. I'm happy that we had this time together. I don't want you to think that I am ungrateful."

Cradling her to him, he smiled into her forehead before gently kissing it. 

"I know you're not." Hannibal replied. He felt her drift off to sleep and soon joined her. 

 

The next day Sophia didn't escort Hannibal to the airport, per his request. Airports were too security heavy, and Hannibal didn't want to risk any unnecessary exposure. The two would continue with postcard correspondence, and Hannibal promised to let her know in advance when he would return to Florence. 

The flat felt dead without his presence in it, but Sophia was happy to have her classes as a distraction. Days became weeks and weeks became months. The standard form of communication, via postcard continued between the two, but every now and then she would receive a gift of a beautiful dress or an elegant scarf. But then Sophia stopped receiving such correspondence. Getting ready for a summer break, she didn't want to admit to herself that something was off. She felt it in her bones; three months had passed and not even the edge of a word was sent her way. Knowing that something had to be wrong, she trusted in Hannibal's words.

One month later she received a package with an address, a one way ticket to Paris, and a simple set of directions. With a calm sense of being, she knew that her time in Florence was now over.


End file.
